


A Light In Dark Places

by LordVaako



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Could be seen as pre-slash if you squint a lot, Do not post to another site, Eventual Happy Ending, Friendship, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Head Injury, Hurt Carson Beckett, Hurt Ronon Dex, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Missions Gone Wrong, Protective Carson Beckett, Protective Ronon Dex, Worried John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24322717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordVaako/pseuds/LordVaako
Summary: Where was Ronon? Carson's head felt like a boulder had dropped on it. The low ringing in his ears, coupled with a throbbing headache, made him touch his temple. He removed his fingers and inhaled in surprise at the crimson smears.** Ronon is sent to bring Carson back to Atlantis, but the good doctor wants to spend more time with a village's healer. When the village is attacked, Ronon and Carson are badly injured. They must rely on each other to get back to the Stargate.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	A Light In Dark Places

The wind whipped the tree branches and wailed overhead. The tall, overgrown grass swayed in all directions, unconcerned by the bodies hidden by its stalks. It hurt to move, but Carson flexed his left hand, testing it. His right hand followed, and then a leg.

Red-hot pain shot through the doctor and he bit down on his lip to keep from screaming. His eyes watered from the strain, but he methodically continued the self-assessment of his injuries. His right thigh had a deep bruise that ended at his knee, but from what he could feel, the skin wasn't torn and nothing was broken. Carson blinked to clear his vision. How long had he been unconscious? Where was he? A tiny voice inside his head told him to get up – slowly – and look for the others. 

_Och, right._ He was with Sheppard's off-world team on M4X-722. No, wait. That wasn’t right. He _had_ been with Colonel Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney earlier that day, but the others returned to Atlantis. Only Ronon was with him now. Where was Ronon? Carson's head felt like a boulder had dropped on it. The low ringing in his ears, coupled with a throbbing headache, made him touch his temple. He removed his fingers and inhaled in surprise at the crimson smears.

“Mr. Dex?” Beckett called softly, but the effort made his head pulse with pain.

He swallowed and tried once more. “Ronon? Where are ye, lad? Are ye hurt?”

Carson pulled his arms under his chest and pushed himself off of the ground. His vision swam briefly before settling and allowing him to focus on his surroundings. He sniffed the air and caught the heavy smell of burning wood.

“Doc?” Ronon's throat burned from the effort of saying the word. He was on his side and there was a heavy weight pinning him down. He grunted and shoved against the obstruction, and was satisfied when it clattered loudly to the ground beside him.

“Oh, thank God,” Carson said from somewhere nearby. “I'd almost given up hope I'd find ye conscious. Are ye alright?”

“Yeah, I'm fine, Doc,” Ronon sat up slowly and shook his wild tangle of hair, trying to remove as much dirt as possible. He used the palms of his hands to wipe his eyes. “Just dirty.”

“I didna think to look underneath anything for ye,” the doctor said, hobbling closer to the larger man. “Here, let me take a look.”

“Can't get the dirt out of my eyes.”

Carson clenched his teeth as he eased himself down next to Ronon's still seated form. The other man was fairly covered from head to toe in mounds of debris. “What the hell happened?”

“Explosion,” Ronon answered, flipping his tattered shirt to flick off more dirt. He used the edge to wipe his face. “We were leaving when the village came under attack. I grabbed you and we headed for the 'gate.”

“Oh, aye, I remember now,” Carson swallowed.

* * *

A few hours earlier, the other medical personnel returned to Atlantis at the appointed time, but Beckett sent a message with them saying he would remain on the planet for a few hours more so he could learn a couple of native medicinal techniques from the tribe's shaman. Sheppard and Weir weren't about to let the Chief Medical Officer remain alone on the planet. Sheppard sent Ronon after him.

“That's a bit of overkill, don't ye think, Colonel?” Carson blanched. “I can take care of meself. I'm not needin' a bodyguard here, ye know.”

“Sorry, no can do, Doc,” John replied through the command center's com-link. “And don't bother trying to bribe Ronon. He's been ordered to bring you back.”

_An order? Well, that's that, then,_ Carson fumed. If there was one thing as sure as the sun rising in the East, it was that Specialist Ronon Dex followed John Sheppard's orders.

“That's bloody unfair, Colonel, and ye bloody well know it!”

John chuckled and Carson was sure he'd caught Elizabeth and Chuck's muffled laughter in the background as well. “Fine, ye have yerselves a right wonderful time. I'll see ye shortly.”

Ronon arrived, but as Carson said his good-byes to the shaman, the clamor of alarm filled the air. The three men ran out of the healing house in time to see the first explosion blow a dwelling apart. Terrified people ran in all directions, and the wails of the dying drowned out frantically shouted prayers and the screams of separated loved ones.

“Get down!” Ronon growled, but he already shoved Carson hard to the ground.

Another explosion, followed by shouts and fighting, was added to the chaos rippling through the normally quaint setting. Whoever attacked them had come ready to do as much damage as possible.

“We need to get out of here,” Ronon urged, and Carson felt a fist grab the top of his flak jacket. “Move, Beckett!”

“We can't just leave these people here!” Carson fought against the iron grasp at the back of his neck as he was once again shoved forward. “Some of these people are injured! We need to help!”

“Not our fight, Doc. Now move.”

“Wha...” his ears couldn't have heard correctly. “You mean to just leave them? Are ye daft? I canna do that!”

“Yes, you can, and you will,” Ronon held Carson's arm firmly and began to run.

Carson let his legs catch up to Ronon's long strides then stopped suddenly. “I canna do it, damnit! I'm a bloody Doctor! I'm staying here!”

Ronon made sure his chest hit the physician when he stopped to stare him down. To his credit, Beckett didn't flinch under the bruising glare and flared nostrils.

Ronon spoke the words through teeth clenched so tight his jaw twitched. “I can't protect you here. I need to get you to Atlantis. We'll send some teams to help. I don't know who's attacking, but I have my orders. We have to go. Now!”

Carson nodded, but Ronon didn't wait for his consent. He shoved the doctor and they were running again.

They didn't get far before a series of explosions turned up the ground beneath their feet. They'd been just outside the village when debris rained down on them from all sides. Carson was blown several feet from his former position. He'd lost sight of Ronon before darkness claimed him.

* * *

“It's dark,” Ronon said, and Carson grimaced. It was barely evening and the sun still sat hazily on the horizon.

Carson held his hand in front of Ronon's dirty, blood-streaked face. “Son, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Holding up where?” Dex asked.

Carson leaned closer and touched the torn skin under Ronon's eyes. He gently pulled away dirt and wood, leaving the torn skin underneath untouched.

“Ronon, can ye open your eyes for me?” he asked.

“What's wrong?”

The panic struck Carson hard despite his years of medical training. At one glance he'd known Ronon's injuries were serious. The last explosion threw them several yards away, and the soldier must have been hit by flying debris.

“Just try,” Carson said quietly.

Ronon opened his eyes, and blinked several times.

“Son,” the doctor again held his hand in front of Ronon's face. “How many fingers do ye see?”

Eerie silence followed causing Beckett's heart to drop. Ronon _couldn't_ see.

“It's alright, lad,” he patted Dex's shoulder lightly. “Ye have bruising around your eyes and from what I can tell, ye may have damaged your optical nerve. I can't know more until we get ye back to the infirmary.”

Ronon didn't move. He blinked and brought his hands to his eyes, but Carson stopped him.

“No, no more rubbing,” he said. “I don't want to risk damaging your eyes further. Try not to rub them.”

Still Dex wouldn't speak. Carson sighed and dropped his hand to Ronon's exposed stomach.

“Ughn...”

The grunt of pain snapped Carson's attention to the rest of the man's body. He was so preoccupied with Ronon's face that he'd not finished examining him.

“Does this hurt?” Beckett asked as he touched the dirt-covered muscles etched across Ronon's midsection. Dex flinched again.

“Bloody hell!” Carson pulled back his hand as if burned. “I thought ye told me ye were alright?”

“I'm fine.”

“No, Ronon Dex, you're not fine!” Carson spat back. “You're wounded and ye could have internal injuries. I can't help ye if ye don't tell me the truth.”

“It's nothing,” Ronon answered, and Carson had to fight the urge to press into his tender stomach to prove him wrong. “We need to move.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?” Beckett asked. “I told ye, lad. Ye could have internal bleeding, or worse. And in case you've forgotten, you've taken a wicked blow to the head that's left ye blind!”

“Are you injured?” Ronon asked.

“Aye, I've a deep bruise on one leg, but none the worse for wear,” Carson said.

“Good. Let's move.”

Exasperated, Carson watched Ronon push himself off the ground until he was standing hunched over, an arm clutching his midsection. When he swayed unsteadily, the doctor bit back the searing pain in his leg and hooked his arm and shoulder under Ronon, taking much of the taller man's weight.

“You're bloody awful at following orders!” he accused but helped Ronon take a few steps forward.

“I already have an order,” Dex replied. “Which way is the 'gate?”

* * *

Carson wanted to go back to the village to get help, but the strong stench of charred bodies wafting through the air told him he'd find no sanctuary there. Whoever attacked the villagers could still be around, and Ronon was in no condition for a fight.

The doctor and soldier picked their way carefully through the forest as night finally enveloped the sky. Moonlight cast shadows between the trees, forcing Carson to stop their slow progress several times. Sweat poured down his face as he strained to keep Ronon from stumbling over rocks and bushes.

“You need to rest,” Ronon said, and Carson was happy to oblige. “Look for anything that could offer cover.”

It was hard to make out anything in the inky blackness, but Beckett finally located two fallen trees with enough overgrowth to provide sufficient shelter. He led Ronon to the spot and carefully lowered him down. After several minutes, Carson also seated himself next to Ronon.

“How are ye feelin'?”

There was just enough light filtered through the branches overhead for the doctor to see Dex grimace.

“That bad, eh?” Beckett said. “If I had my med kit, I'd give ye something for the pain.”

“S'ok, Doc,” Ronon said.

“Do ye think we'll make it to the Stargate without running into whoever caused this mess?”

“Dunno, but we need to keep moving,” Ronon answered.

“Aye, just a wee bit more rest for ye then we'll go.”

Carson wasn't certain, but he thought he'd felt a change in Ronon then. He looked at the bowed head of the Satedan, but couldn't see his face. Dex breathed heavily and his hand seemed to grip his gun tighter.

Leaning in, Carson whispered, “Ronon....what is it?”

“You should go on alone, Doc.”

“What!” Beckett struggled to keep his voice low. “Are ye mad? I'll do no such thing.”

Ronon turned his head to the sound of the doctor's voice.

“Carson.....” his words were shaky, “I can't protect you. If someone attacks, I....”

“Shhh, none of that now.” Beckett laid his hand on the other man's neck. So, that was what was eating away at Ronon. “Though I don't look it, I've had a few scraps in my day. I'm not a soldier like you, and I won't pretend I can break a man with my bare hands.....”

“But I...”

“Shhh, listen, son,” Carson interrupted. “We'll get out of this together. I canna do it alone. If something happens, it happens to both of us. Do ye understand?”

“I can't see, Doc,” Ronon said, the truth in his words caught in his chest.

“Aye, ye can't,” Carson replied solemnly and gave Dex's shoulder a squeeze. “So I'll be your light in dark places. We'll be fine. Trust me.”

Despite his bruised ego, Ronon managed to smile weakly at the doctor. He raised his hand and reached for Carson, sliding his fingers quickly over him until the doctor grabbed his hand.

“You'll need this,” he said as he pressed his favorite gun into Beckett's soft hands.

Dex grinned again at the expletive Carson used before reaching for the sword on his back. The move pulled at his abs and he stilled to let the pain subside. Without a word, Carson unsheathed the long weapon and placed it in Ronon's hand.

“Just be careful where you're pointing that thing.”

If it wouldn't hurt like hell, Ronon knew he would have laughed out loud.

* * *

Carson couldn't believe his relief when he finally saw the Stargate in the distance. It felt like hours had passed, and despite another brief rest, he was weary to the bone. Every muscle in his body protested his movements, and he could feel Ronon languishing at his side. The man was drenched in sweat, his arm wrapped so tightly around his stomach that Carson could see the knuckles of Ronon's hand were white with strain.

“Almost there, son, just a wee bit further,” he hoped he sounded reassuring.

Before he could take another step, Carson felt Ronon shift before he was shoved roughly to the ground. The doctor grunted in surprise and pain, but he didn't move. Something was wrong. He looked over to where his companion had planted himself. Sweat liberally poured from Ronon's face, but he seemed to be listening so Carson joined him. His ears picked up the deathly quiet of the surrounding forest, noting to himself that there was a distinct lack of noise – no animals scampered underfoot and no night birds chirped in the trees.

“Someone is nearby,” Ronon whispered in his ear. “Guard maybe.”

Carson gripped Ronon's gun tightly and suppressed the shiver of fear edging its way up his spine. Somewhere in the darkness was an obstacle to their freedom and with Dex's poor physical state Carson would need to deal with it.

“Can you see the 'gate?” Ronon asked.

“Yes, it's not far,” Beckett answered. “We can make it, but I'd still have to dial and add my IDC.”

“Keep to the brush,” Ronon said; his voice sounded weak. “If something moves, shoot it.”

“I...I canna...I mean…” Carson stumbled with the understanding of what he might have to do to get home. Taking a life in cold blood was not what he signed on for. “Ronon, I canna shoot a man.”

“No choice, Doc,” the reply flat and unemotional. “Us or them. Choose.”

Twenty minutes later, Carson chose. The lone man left to guard the Stargate while his, assumed, comrades wreaked havoc on the village was more surprised to see two dirty, bloodied men staring back at him than Carson was to see the man fumble for his weapon.

His heart beat so loudly that Carson was deaf to any other sound. His hands felt clammy and the world seemed to move in slow motion.

The other man raised his weapon. Carson felt his arm move.

The stranger's gun fired. Beckett pulled the trigger on Ronon's gun.

“Doc!” Ronon's voice broke through and Carson felt himself falling forward.

“Fuck! Doc!”

_Death shouldn't hurt so much,_ Carson thought, _but it did_. Death burned. Heavy hands frantically patted him down until they stopped over the burning, wet hole where the guard's bullet burrowed through clothing and soft tissue.

“Bloody brilliant,” Carson groaned, his hand touched Ronon's at his side. He muttered a string of curses in Gaelic before rolling into his friend's arms. Vaguely aware that he hadn't shot himself, Beckett glanced over to where the guard once stood. The body was motionless.

“They'd have heard that,” Ronon pulled at Carson until the doctor let himself be yanked onto his knees.

He couldn't stand, not without help, and Ronon was in no condition to lift Carson. So, with blood spreading down his BDUs and pain beyond any he'd ever endured, Dr. Carson Beckett, chief medical officer of the Atlantis Expedition, grabbed a handful of Ronon's sweater and clawed himself up until he stood bent at the waist.

“Aye,” he said as each man supported the other to the DHD.

* * *

“Incoming wormhole,” Chuck yelled from the control room. “It's Dr. Beckett's IDC!”

Sheppard and Major Lorne turned in unison and stepped from in front of the Stargate just before the event horizon whooshed to life. Hours had passed since Ronon was sent to retrieve the doctor, but when the two men failed to arrive, John had figured Carson would have convinced Ronon to give him a little more time on the planet. Since Dex was more than capable of handling any problems, John convinced Elizabeth to give the doctor the extra hours to enjoy himself.

But when the two missed a second radio transmission requesting a status update, Sheppard prepped a team to go after them.

Now he wished he'd gone after them sooner.

Ronon and Carson stumbled through the 'gate and everyone gathered nearby audibly gasped. The doctor was the first to crumple to the ground, his lower body matted with blood. Ronon followed, falling next to Beckett. Neither man moved again.

“Goddamn it!” John screamed and tapped his radio. “Medical team to the gate room! Men down!”

It seemed everyone moved at once. The surge of Marines, scientists, technicians and, soon doctors and nurses, sent a buzz of activity through gate room. John yelled commands. Weir spoke hurriedly into her radio. Rodney demanded answers and Teyla tried to soothe Carson and Ronon's worried and confused colleagues.

* * *

The first few hours passed in a blur for everyone. John blamed himself for not acting sooner. Rodney blamed Carson for “fucking around with a witch doctor” and “playing Rambo”.

“We were able to remove the bullet in Dr. Beckett's abdomen and were pleased to see none of the vital organs were damaged,” Dr. Biro said, her eyes on Carson's medical chart. She scribbled a few notations before returning her attention to the group who'd gathered in what passed for the infirmary's waiting room. “He's a strong man, so I'm confident he'll make a full recovery.”

John breathed a relieved sigh. “And Ronon?”

Dr. Biro looked at the military commander compassionately. “It's too early to know anything certain, but we removed debris from his eyes and repaired what we could. I don't need to tell you, Colonel, that the human eye is a delicate organ.”

“Will he see again, Doc? Shoot it to me straight,” John said, agitated.

“Maybe, Colonel. I'm sorry, but I can't offer more than that,” she said.

“What, you mean he...Ronon could end up...” Rodney's eyes widened with realization. “Well, that's fucked up! Can't you do anything else? All this technology and you're telling us 'maybe'?”

“Dr. McKay....” Biro began, but Rodney's tirade silenced her.

“No, no, don't!” Rodney's anger rose. “Despite the fact you're all a bunch of quacks with glorified degrees, I refuse to believe he's going to end up stumbling through Atlantis like one of the three blind mice! No, you need to get back in there and actually do something to _fix_ this!”

“Rodney,” Elizabeth's voice was stern. “That's not fair to Dr. Biro or her team. They're doing everything they can for Ronon and Carson.”

Rodney's chin tilted higher as he folded his arms across his chest. The fear in his eyes belied his usual ambivalence, and that made Sheppard even more uneasy. It wasn't always evident, but at some point during their exposure to each other, McKay and Dex had become friends. John knew Rodney was scared.

“We'll do everything we can. I promise,” Dr. Biro nodded to Elizabeth and John, then left the room.

John never felt so helpless in his life.

* * *

The first sound Ronon recognized was the quiet hum of a machine near his bed. He slowly turned his head to the sound and tried to remember the noise from his previous stays in the Atlantis infirmary. He breathed deeply of the antiseptic smell that gave the medical room its cold yet comforting air. These were familiar to Dex, and it gave him comfort because it meant he was in Atlantis.

He concentrated on other sounds next. He heard a nurse placing supplies on a shelf. Another walked away from his location, shoes squeaking softly with each step. _Only two,_ Dex thought. The small on-duty team meant it was third shift. If they were working it was early morning, maybe 0200 or 0300 hours.

Another sound caught Ronon's attention. It was low, but distinct, like wind trying to blow through a small, hollow reed. Dex willed his own heart to stop pumping blood through his ears so he could capture the sound more clearly. _Breathing,_ he thought. But this didn't sound right. As he listened, Ronon heard the breath catch a couple of times, returning unsteadily to the owner.

“Doc?” Ronon's voice hitched in his dry throat and his effort to moisten it so he could speak failed.

Dex picked up the other sound again, and this time he imagined where the other man lay. Ronon touched his hand to his bandaged head and felt the gauzy material that covered his eyes. He felt the back of his right hand, nudging the IV line taped there, before pulling the needle away.

Effortlessly, Ronon flung his legs over the side of his bed. He stilled when his abdomen complained with a sharp pull to already bruised muscles. Dex gingerly touched the padded bandages around his midsection, absently remembering the injury. His memories were interrupted when the breathing from earlier seemed more erratic.

Ronon tried his voice again. “Doc?” The sound was barely a whisper.

When he was sure his legs wouldn't collapse underneath him, Ronon took a step, and then another, towards the bed where Dr. Beckett lay struggling for breath.

* * *

Unconscious, Dr. Beckett couldn't know the trouble he was in. His lungs slowly burned, denied its steady flow of oxygen from the nasal cannula under his nose. But his heart worked harder in his chest, demanding the lungs send more into the blood stream and up to his brain.

Alarms went off as soon as Ronon reached Carson's bedside. His heavy hand touched his friend's chest, anchoring Carson to this world. Dex's other hand moved up and over Beckett's face, a finger flicked the dislodged nasal cannula.

“What are you....” the duty nurse asked as she reached her boss' bed. “Dr. Parker!”

The doctor on duty rushed over a moment later and shoved past the nurse. He replaced the cannula, but Carson did not stop wheezing. A quick check revealed the instrument was malfunctioning.

“Casey, oxygen mask!”

The nurse reached beside Carson's bed and shoved the mask into Dr. Parker's hand. He deftly removed the broken cannula and placed the mask onto Beckett's face. Seconds passed before the patient was breathing easily. Dr. Parker checked his pulse and reset the monitors.

“Mr. Dex, what happened?” he asked when Beckett was out of danger.

“Heard him,” he whispered before touching his throat.

“That's remarkable,” Parker said. “He's lucky you did. The cannula malfunctioned and he wasn't getting oxygen.”

Ronon nodded but he remained standing next to Carson with his hand on his chest. The gentle rise and fall doing more to calm the soldier than the other doctor's words.

“He'll be fine now. You should return to your bed,” Parker said, motioning to the nurse to assist Dex.

“I'm good,” Ronon said, resisting the light pressure on his arm.

* * *

Despite the scare, the days that followed were blissfully without incident. From his bed, Ronon provided Sheppard and Weir with a detailed report on what happened on the planet. A team was sent through the Stargate that afternoon to check on the villagers.

Carson regained consciousness the third day, managing to drift in and out of sleep as visitors came and went. Rodney, Teyla, and John spent most of their free time between the two beds, visiting with Ronon or Carson depending on whoever was awake at the time.

It wasn't until the sixth day that the two patients awakened at the same time. They spoke quietly about what happened, Carson leading the conversations when Ronon became quiet. The doctor guessed what was most heavy on the warrior's mind and he tried his best to offer support and encouragement.

“I hear the bandages come off today,” he said while they ate lunch.

Ronon didn't say anything, and that was worrisome to Carson.

“Ronon, what's wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing, Doc.”

“Are ye worried about your eyes? About being able to see?” He felt stupid for asking, but Beckett needed to help Dex through the fear the man was hiding behind his bandages.

“Don't want to think about it,” Ronon replied, pushing his food tray away.

“I canna tell ye what I do not know myself, but I won't lie to ye either,” Carson began. “Blindness isna something many have the strength to deal with. But if there's anyone who could find a way to work through it, to see in a new way, I'd put my bets on you, Ronon Dex.”

After a pause to let Ronon digest his words, Carson pushed his own tray down the bed and shifted so he was lying on his side facing Ronon's bed.

“Without your eyes, we got off that planet,” he said. “You were able to use your other senses as well as I've ever seen ye. If your worst fear did come true, I know in my heart you'd find a way to take a disadvantage and turn it around.”

Before he could say more, members of Team Sheppard entered the infirmary along with Elizabeth. John's smile did little to conceal the hard lines around his eyes and the subtle clenching of his jaw.

“Mr. Dex, your friends are here,” Dr. Biro said, standing near Ronon's bed. “If you're ready, I'd like to remove the bandages now.”

“No,” Ronon replied.

“Hey, big guy, we're all here,” John stepped forward and placed his hand on Ronon's leg. “No matter what, we're here for you.”

Carson noticed it first. A slight trembling of Ronon's shoulders traveled down to his chest and arms. _Och, the man's terrified,_ he thought sadly.

“John, if ye wouldn't mind giving a hand to an old man,” Carson said, pushing the blanket from his legs before letting them hang off the side of the bed.

Sheppard was at his side, his arms wrapped under the doctor's as he lifted Carson to his feet. Beckett's legs felt like cooked spaghetti and his sore abdomen protested, but John took most of his weight. A moment later, Rodney had replaced John on one side. Together they half dragged Carson to Ronon's bedside. With a swift three-count, he was sitting next to Dex.

“Ronon, I'm here,” Carson spoke so softly that Teyla and Elizabeth strained to hear his words. Carson touched Ronon's hand, squeezing it.

“Carson,” his words were tinged with dread, making everyone in the room want to throw themselves onto Ronon and protect him.

“A light in dark places,” Carson rubbed his thumb over the back of Ronon's hand. “Remember me telling ye that?”

“Yeah.”

“It's still true, son.”

John and Rodney shared a bewildered look, but both saw Ronon was more relaxed by Carson's strange, comforting words.

“It's time,” Beckett said.

Ronon leaned forward so Carson could reach his head. Soft, nimble fingers gently tugged at the head bandage, unraveling it in a slow circle. Freed dreads brushed Carson's hands as he continued unwrapping the gauze. When he finished, he handed the material to Dr. Biro.

Ronon's face bore bruising high on his cheeks, but they were healing well.

“I'm going to remove the padding over your eyes now,” he explained. “Keep your eyes closed for me. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Here we go then.”

Carson carefully pulled the pads off and placed them in Dr. Biro's hands. He looked at Dex's closed eyes, still puffy from surgery, and allowed himself a small sigh when he noticed the skin around them was shiny and healthy.

“Now, Ronon, as slowly as ye can manage, open your eyes,” he said, adding as much encouragement as he could.

Teyla held her breath as the Satedan's eyes lazily opened. John was so engaged in watching Dex that he unconsciously tightened his already clenched fists. Elizabeth smiled reassuringly when Ronon raised his hands to shield his eyes from the infirmary's lights.

“Hurts,” Dex said.

Carson leaned in closer to Ronon. “Take your time, son. What do ye see?”

Ronon tried again and could barely make out cloudy blue. He blinked several times before he finally focused on Carson's blue eyes staring back at him.

“Doc,” he said, wearing a smile as large as the one one the face in front of him.

“Aye,” Carson's grin widened.

The room erupted in cheers and exhaled breaths. Hands roughly patted Carson's back, and shook Ronon's leg. Dr. Biro's penlight flicked across Ronon's eyes when they weren't focused on Carson. As conversations broke out, the two friends stared at each other and communicated wordlessly.

A smile here. A nod there.


End file.
